


The Day(ish) Night(ish) Time(ish) of the Five(ish) Doctors Reboot

by dbskyler



Category: The Five(ish) Doctors Reboot
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 08:29:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2766410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dbskyler/pseuds/dbskyler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steven Moffat wants to do another multi-Doctor special.  Will Peter, Colin, and Sylvester get any voicemail messages this time?  Read on, because this fic is not about some flash-in-the-pan 500-million-dollar picture!  This is important!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Day(ish) Night(ish) Time(ish) of the Five(ish) Doctors Reboot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thinkatory](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thinkatory/gifts).



> thinkatory, it was a pleasure to write for you, and I hope you enjoy this. Happy Yuletide!
> 
> To everyone else: If you've wandered in here without knowing the fandom, please be aware that character names notwithstanding, this fic is not about any of the actual actors or creators of Doctor Who. These are parody characters who appeared in [The Five(ish) Doctors Reboot](http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p01m3kfy). Which you should go watch right away, because the real Peter Davison (writer and director of that special) is a comedy genius.
> 
> Thanks go to my beta, Persiflage.

_23 November, 2013: Peter Davison's house_

"So, boys," said Peter, "what did you think of the Doctor Who 50th anniversary special?"

"It was fantastic!" said one child. 

"It was great!" said the other.

"Even though it didn't have your favorite Doctor in it?" asked Peter with a secret smile. He _had_ been in it, although almost no one knew that. 

"What do you mean? Matt Smith was in the episode," said the older child, giving him a puzzled look.

"Matt Smith's not _my_ favorite Doctor, not when we have our own Doctor in the family!" his other son proclaimed. "David Tennant is the best."

"Um, yes," said Peter. He took a deep breath. "But what did you think of the Zygons, and the way they stood under those sheets? Didn't you think they seemed menacing, even though you couldn't see them? Wasn't that impressive acting? The special wouldn't have been nearly as good without that, right?"

The boys looked at each other, then back at him. "Can we go now?" they asked.

Peter sighed.

_23 November, 2013: Colin Baker's house_

"Let's watch it again," said Colin, rewinding the DVR to the point where the camera panned past the figures shrouded in their sheets. "Right . . . there! See? There I am. You can tell it's me because of the way I radiate hidden charisma."

"Can you please stop rewinding it, and just let us see the rest of the episode?" asked his wife. She looked over to the front door, where their daughters were trying frantically to get out, again.

_23 November, 2013: Sylvester McCoy's house_

"Well, that was pretty good," said Sylvester. "Although of course, it wasn't a motion picture."

* * *

Steven Moffat walked through the misty corridor, encountering people as he went.

"Steven, it was such a tremendous honor to star in 'The Day of the Doctor,' written by you," said Matt Smith. "No other achievement will ever compare to that for the rest of my life."

"You are the best Doctor Who writer in the entire 50-year history of the show," said David Tennant. 

Russell T. Davies held up a copy of his book, _The Writer's Tale._ "I want you to know that I am burning all copies of my book, and re-publishing it as 'The Tale of the Person Who's Not Nearly as Good a Writer as Steven Moffat'," he said. "Would you mind autographing the first copy for me?"

The mists faded, and Steven woke. He realized that he was lying on the sofa in his office, where he had been avoiding a meeting about budget cuts. His glance lit on the latest copy of _The Radio Times,_ which didn't have Doctor Who on its front cover. The anniversary was over, and the frenzy had died down. Well then, he thought, he would just have to create a new frenzy. Budget cuts? No one would be talking to him about budget cuts when there were 'round-the-clock interviews, and clips, and previews, and behind-the-scenes extras. He had to make it all happen again. The world would learn to properly appreciate his genius, Doctor Who would be on everywhere all the time, and he would take his rightful place as ruler of the BBC!

He stood in front of a mirror, and wondered how he would look with a goatee.

* * *

_Paul McGann's voicemail:_

"Hi Paul, it's your agent. I just got a call from Steven Moffat. He's talking about doing another multi-Doctor special. Are you interested?"

_Peter Davison's voicemail:_

"You have no messages."

_Colin Baker's voicemail:_

"You have no messages."

_Sylvester McCoy's voicemail:_

"You have no messages."

* * *

When the news broke, British Telecom exploded. Peter called Colin. Colin called Sylvester. Sylvester called Peter. Colin called Tom, but hung up before anyone answered.

"I can't believe they would do this to us!" 

"A multi-Doctor special that leaves us out _again?"_

"What can they be thinking? Don't they realize that I've been in a major motion picture directed by Oscar-winning Peter Jackson?" 

"According to my information, they think we're too old, and we don't look enough like we used to look. Our Doctors are going to make a brief appearance through a combination of old footage and CGI-based special effects."

"And who is the source of this information of yours? Would he have a Scottish accent, and be married to your daughter?" 

"No, I read it in 'Entertainment Weekly.'"

"That's all very well, but what are we going to do about it?"

"Should we try picketing again?"

"How about a petition?"

"I could write a very strongly worded letter to the BBC."

"I'd be willing to write a letter, too. Work permitting, obviously."

"Paul?! What are _you_ doing on the line?"

"Oh, sorry, I'll hang up."

"Anyway, as we were saying . . . "

"We can't let them go through with it. We've got to shut this down, any way we can. Let's meet up in person and come up with a plan."

"Hang on, why are we doing this? Why should we spend a tremendous amount of time and energy on preventing Steven Moffat from making a new multi-Doctor special?"

"For the fans."

"Right," the others agreed, resolved. "For the fans!"

* * *

Deciding to write a big multi-Doctor special was one thing. Actually writing one was a tad harder. Steven sat in his office, looking at his blank computer screen. The first thing he needed was a title. What title would be suitably impressive, would get everyone in the media excited, would start a flame war over on Gallifrey Base? Most importantly, what title would show off his genius as a writer?

He decided to just start typing titles in. Surely his genius, which was amazingly genius-like, would emerge without too much effort on his part.

"The Twelve Doctors."  
"The Day of the Twelve Doctors."  
"The Night of the Twelve Doctors."  
"The Shortly-After-Teatime of the Twelve Doctors."

Hmm. Well, he was sure the perfect title would come to him eventually. He would just have to put it away for awhile and let his inner genius work on it. In the meantime, he could concentrate on other important things, like practicing his evil laugh.

He walked over to the mirror. " _Muah_ -ha-ha-ha!" he laughed. "Muah- _ha_ -ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha- _ha!"_

* * *

"The best point of attack is the BBC," said Sylvester. "If they don't want the special made, then it won't get made. We just have to get them to be unsupportive of Doctor Who."

"Well, we've all had experience with that," said Peter. "We just have to recreate the circumstances we were faced with back when we were on the show."

"Yes," said Colin. "What we need is low budgets, and wobbly sets, and terrible scripts. Anything else?"

"Bad special effects," said Peter. "Monsters that are obviously people in rubber suits, or things covered in bubble wrap."

"We could throw in a ridiculous Kandyman robot," said Sylvester thoughtfully.

"No need to overdo things," said Peter.

"Just one question," said Colin. "How are we supposed to influence the budgets, sets, scripts, and special effects of the show?"

"What we need is a nostalgia movement," said Sylvester. "We launch a campaign to bring back the BBC's old production standards. That will put pressure on them to turn the show into Classic Who, which will lower the BBC's support for the show, which in turn means that the multi-Doctor special won't get made."

"Or," said Colin, "as long as we're launching a nostalgia movement, we could launch one that is all about getting the three of us back onto Doctor Who again. That way, the multi-Doctor special does get made, and we'll be in it."

"I suppose that could work too," said Sylvester grudgingly. "If you want to be straightforward and pedestrian about it."

"I'm glad you approve," said Colin archly. "I for one would like to be _in_ the special, preferably without a sheet over my head this time."

"Yes, that would be nice," Sylvester agreed. "Even if it is TV."

"A nostalgia movement to bring us back to Doctor Who!" said Peter. "Let's do it — for the fans!"

* * *

_How to Launch a Doctor Who Nostalgia Movement_

They called talk shows. Morning shows. Radio shows. Children's shows. Reality shows. Game shows. 

"Let me transfer you to voicemail."

"Let me transfer you to voicemail."

"Of course I'll take a message, Mr. Davidson. Davidson. That's what I said. What? Oh, okay, spell it for me . . . Are you sure you're spelling that correctly?"

"Let me transfer you to voicemail."

"Let me transfer you to voicemail."

"Well, I'll check, but we're fully booked on guests . . . wait, Baker? From Doctor Who? You're _Tom Baker?!_ I'm so excited, I love your work . . . oh, you're not Tom Baker? You're who? _Colin_ Baker? What character did you play?"

"Let me transfer you to voicemail."

"Let me transfer you to voicemail."

"Yes, you mentioned that you were in 'The Hobbit.' Yes, you mentioned that it was a major motion picture directed by Oscar-winning Peter Jackson. Let me transfer you to voicemail, and I'm sure Simon Cowell will be happy to listen to your Radagast impression."

_How to Launch a Doctor Who Nostalgia Movement: Take 2_

They walked all over London while wearing t-shirts of their Doctor Who costumes. People asked them who they were dressed as.

They posed in front of the TARDIS-like police box outside of Earl's Court. People asked them to step out of the way so they could take pictures of the TARDIS-like police box.

They spent days standing outside of the Doctor Who Experience. They had wanted to stand inside, but didn't want to keep paying for admission.

They set up an event to sign DVDs of their old episodes. Then they set up an event to give away DVDs of their old episodes. Finally, they set up an event to pay people to take DVDs of their old episodes.

_How to Launch a Doctor Who Nostalgia Movement: Take 3_

David Tennant mentioned to the BBC that he wanted to go on a media tour. Immediately, he was booked on every talk show, morning show, and radio show that was worth doing. He talked about Classic Who on every show, being sure to especially mention the Fifth Doctor, the Sixth Doctor, and the Seventh Doctor. Finally, he suggested that the BBC give away free DVDs of those Doctors' old episodes with every purchase of a John Barrowman album, and the BBC thought that sounded like an excellent idea because, well, David Tennant.

Classic Who became popular again.

"Now, will you please stop calling us?" begged David.

"Yes, and thank you," said Peter, hanging up the phone in triumph.

* * *

Steven Moffat stormed into his office. How dare the BBC tell him that he had to scrap his CGI idea, and instead give actual parts to the Fifth, Sixth, and Seventh Doctors in his multi-Doctor special! Didn't the BBC realize how difficult it would be to re-work the plot at this late date?

He turned on his computer and opened the file for the special, which was now titled "The Fatal Curse of the Shortly-After-Teatime of the Twelve Doctors." Then he started reading what he had so far. Which didn't take him very long, as he hadn't actually started writing the script yet. But the BBC had no way of knowing that. As far as they were aware, he had a close-to-final draft done already, and it really was unfair of them to ask him to completely re-write what could very well have been a close-to-final draft by now.

Well, he would certainly change things once he was ruler of the BBC. In the meantime, he had better start thinking of what to do with the extra Doctors. Maybe he could find horrible ways for them all to die. 

He put his hands on the keyboard, and started typing. "Die, Doctor! Die, Doctor! Die, Doctor! Muah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"

* * *

Peter, Colin, and Sylvester lounged in the BBC-hired limousine that was taking them to the special BBC press event. They were feeling proud, happy, and most importantly, famous. The BBC had told them that the DVDs of their old episodes were flying off store shelves, and as a result, they had been promised big roles in the upcoming multi-Doctor special. And now they were being driven to this special event, where they would get the opportunity to finally receive their adoration directly from their newly adoring public, under conditions where they had at least a one-in-three chance of being correctly identified on the first try.

When they arrived, Colin sat up and tapped on one of their limousine's tinted windows. "Be careful when you open the door," he said. "All of our fans are probably crowded around, just waiting to catch a glimpse of us. We'll have to negotiate a path through them in order to get inside." He rubbed his hands in happy anticipation.

"Will there be a security person to escort us through?" asked Peter anxiously. "David Tennant always gets a security person to escort him through crowds, and I'd like to be able to tell my family that I got one, too."

"I had lots of security people when I was filming 'The Hobbit'," said Sylvester. "No members of the public were allowed to come onto the set the entire time I was filming there."

Colin turned to look at him. "And when you weren't on the set? Were the public allowed in then?"

"Well, I wouldn't know about that," said Sylvester. "I don't see how that changes the facts, though."

"Let's get going, shall we?" said Peter. "I'm about to open the door. Brace yourselves!"

Peter opened the door, and nothing happened. The three of them looked at each other, then cautiously, one after another, got out of the car. There was no one else there.

"Are we in the right place?" asked Sylvester. 

"We seem to be," said Colin, looking at the marquee over the entrance. Their names were prominently featured, right next to a notice about some sort of puppet show that was going to take place later in the day.

"I guess we go inside?" said Peter. He looked around, hoping to spot a security person who might be willing to take a selfie with him, but the pavement was empty. He gave up and led the way into the building.

The three of them found their way into a large room. Steven Moffat was standing on a stage, and there were approximately three hundred chairs ranged in front of him. Two of the chairs were occupied by people wearing press badges, and the other approximately two hundred and ninety-eight chairs were empty. 

Steven saw them enter the room, then turned to address both members of the audience. "And now, here are the Fifth, Sixth, and Seventh Doctors, who of course are played by three actors who need no introduction. . . " He stopped, and pulled a piece of paper from out of his pocket. ". . . Sylvester McCoy, Peter Davison, and Colin Baker," he read, pointing each of them out incorrectly. "They'll take your questions now."

Peter, Colin, and Sylvester came forward and awkwardly joined Steven on the stage.

One of the reporters raised his hand. "Are you the only people coming today? What about John Barrowman?"

"John Barrowman?" said Steven. "We're here to talk about these three Doctors and my upcoming multi-Doctor special. Of course John Barrowman isn't coming."

The reporter got up and left. The remaining reporter looked around, then raised her hand. "Given the huge new popularity of John Barrowman, will you be including the character of Jack Harkness in your Doctor Who special?" she asked.

Steven stared at her. "What huge new popularity of John Barrowman?" 

"You know, the huge new popularity," said the reporter. "I believe it started after David Tennant mentioned John Barrowman's albums on that media tour? John's sales have been going through the roof ever since. In fact," and she frowned slightly, "aren't those three actors with you the ones from those throw-away DVDs that come with every purchase?"

Steven, Peter, Colin, and Sylvester all looked at each other. "I'd like to go home now," said Sylvester plaintively.

* * *

_Six Months Later_

Peter, Colin, Sylvester, and Steven sat together on the sofa in Steven's office, having just watched the new big-budget Torchwood special, "Quel Dommage, Davros," starring John Barrowman and written by Russell T. Davies.

"That wasn't too bad," said Sylvester. "Although of course, it wasn't a motion picture."

"So, is this the end for us?" asked Peter. "Is there any hope at all now for our multi-Doctor special?"

"I'm afraid not," said Steven. "The BBC had money for either a Doctor Who special or a Torchwood special, and they decided to go with Torchwood. The multi-Doctor special is officially dead."

The four of them sat in silence for a moment. Then Sylvester rose to his feet.

"This isn't the first time that the BBC has told us that Doctor Who was dead, you know. But the show is still here, and it's survived for over fifty years, and it will continue to survive. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice, and somewhere out there, people are watching Doctor Who, and they're willing to see three old actors host a 'Making of' documentary." He smiled, and gestured to Peter and Colin. "Come on, you two. We've got work to do." 

Peter grinned, then stood up and joined him. "Sorry, must dash," he said to Steven, following Sylvester out.

Colin got up and went to the doorway, then paused and turned back. "Ten million years of absolute power. That's what it takes to be _really_ corrupt? Oh, never mind." He shook his head, but his steps were light and quick as he went after his colleagues.

Steven sat back, mulling things over. Those three old, forgotten, but still alive and persevering actors were right; somehow, some way, no matter what, Doctor Who always survived. It was an inspiring thought. Surely, there was still some way for him to use the show to become ruler of the BBC.

He picked up his phone and dialed a number. "Benedict," he said into the voicemail at the other end, "how would you like to do a crossover between Sherlock and Doctor Who?" 

Then he smiled, and gave a perfectly evil laugh.


End file.
